


our drenched hearts pass

by skylofts



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, M/M, Minor Violence, Storms, based on typhoon noruda, set after the fall tournament, theres daisuga if ya look close, tsukishima is... really gay, yamaguchi has had Enough shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylofts/pseuds/skylofts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the span of one day, Tsukishima tries to quit volleyball, Hinata vows to fight the rain, Yamaguchi's the sensible one, and together the three save the world from disaster at the hands of a grumpy alien.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our drenched hearts pass

**Author's Note:**

> just something to note before reading: in this au, kageyama does not play volleyball for karasuno, and no one knows who he is. the same goes for oikawa and iwaizumi. for all intents and purposes, they don't exist as of the start of the story!
> 
> the title comes from arashi no atode by galileo galilei, which is the ending song for typhoon noruda. it's really good, so give it a listen-- but you don't need to know anything about the actual anime (if it can be called that, since it's only one episode) to read!
> 
> this is my first time ever writing fanfiction, so my sincere apologies if someone seems ooc or there's a lot of errors. i really tried my best, so i hope you enjoy!

Karasuno High School loses to Seijou in the third round of the fall Interhigh Preliminaries.

“You all fought well,” says the coach before they set off. The captain, Daichi, nods in agreement, although the slump to his shoulders implies a miserable exhaustion the entire team is feeling. It was true, they had fought well-- in the first set, Karasuno had seemed in the lead, the unpredictable movements of as-of-yet uncharted first-year Hinata leaving the opponents startled. The confusion coupled with the determination the entire team was feeling at the possibility of redeeming Karasuno’s reputation had been enough to win them the first set. From there, though, things went downhill. The shock of the “new and improved” Karasuno had worn off by the second set, and although he was by no means untalented, third-year setter Sugawara was no prodigy-- without the ability to utilize the full potential of Hinata’s speed, Seijou could predict the spikers’ movements easily. The second set went to them, and though Karasuno did try, a rally going up in the third set despite their exhausted resources, the team’s fate was sealed with one spike. 

Tsukishima Kei had gone for it, of course, confident that he could block it-- a smirk on his face as he approached the net. It wasn’t anything spectacular, and was easy to stop. He and the other blockers went up, the spike came down and smashed into his hand. So it went. The trouble came in the usually uneventful follow-up. The ball flew off somewhere, cries going up as the other players returned it, and Tsukishima landed on his feet, his job complete… but he kept falling. Somewhat distantly he registered a pain in his knee, which was _probably_ not the best sign in the world, and then the whistle was blowing. _How troublesome_ , he thinks as he’s led away to get his knee examined, when he could just tell them it was probably sprained or something and be done with it. Really, if you looked at it objectively, the game was over.

He spends the rest of the match icing his knee, which was indeed sprained. Three weeks of rest are prescribed, and Tsukishima’s left to watch the team file off the court and onto the bus, eyes dull behind his glasses and headphones pulled up over his ears. Despite his apparent indifference, it’s hard for him to _not_ notice their slumped shoulders, the occasional tears of players who’d thought that maybe _this_ time they could do it and their hard work would pay off. It’s even harder for him to not be hyper-aware of Yamaguchi’s presence next to him until he dozes off on the bus, his friend’s hands clenched tight on his knees and face screwed up in disappointment. He’d been told that after he was taken out, Yamaguchi had gone in as a pinch server and missed. This was the fallout. Although he’d never admit it, he thought that Yamaguchi had a really nice smile, one that made him have to focus to keep his own lips from turning up most of the time. Try he might, it takes Tsukishima hours after the match to shake the image of Yamaguchi’s usually-smiling face contorted in misery from his head, and longer to disassociate it with the memory of a figure slumped over a Karasuno volleyball jacket.

It’s for the best, he reasons, that he’s stuck on a strict no-volleyball menu for the next three weeks. He observes practice for the first two, watching the determination of the team to recover from their loss. It was like they didn’t even remember the state they’d been in on the bus, Tsukishima observes dryly. Hinata was back to bouncing around irritatingly, Nishinoya was throwing himself on the ground, and Yamaguchi stopped accompanying Tsukishima all the way home in favor of practicing his serves.

Simply put, Tsukishima didn’t understand. They’d seen where their effort had got them the first time, and it wasn’t as if anything would change. Seijou would still be an insurmountable wall, and Shiratorizawa one beyond that, and so on. There was always someone greater. In Tsukishima’s opinion, there was no point in wasting time with practice that only tired him out.

And so he stops coming. Daichi and Sugawara corner him in the halls several times, asking if his knee is recovering-- with an easily blank expression, he says that it’s still sore and he’s been advised to stay off it longer. Hinata barges into his classroom to ask him to block serves several days later, and Tsukishima scoffs before refusing. He assumes no one will notice-- after all, it wasn’t like he was some big personality on the team like Nishinoya or Tanaka. On a team of reasonably talented people, he was average. Essentially forgettable.

\-------

He supposes he should have realized Yamaguchi would notice. After years of friendship, Yamaguchi is the one most attuned to his quirks, the one who could point out the few moments he enjoyed himself in their matches during the fall seasons, who knew that he delighted (well, for Tsukishima, at least) in rewatching the several dinosaur documentaries that’d been saved on his DVR for years. Someone who’d sat through several hours of said documentaries and giggled at the minute shifts in Tsukishima’s expressions as the narrator went on about brontosauruses and pterodactyls-- shifts he himself hadn’t even noticed-- would have seen through such a lazy lie as his bum knee in an instant.

So Tsukishima really shouldn’t be surprised when one day, as they’re walking home, Yamaguchi speaks up with a cough.

“Hey, Tsukki…” he starts, and Tsukishima knows he’s busted, because usually Yamaguchi just launches straight in enthusiastically if he’s going to talk about the new episode of the drama he likes or how his serves are going, “How’s your knee?”

“Fine.”

Fine is the word people, especially those whose names start with Tsuk- and end with -ishima, use when they don’t want to discuss something, and Yamaguchi is fully aware of this, looking up at him exasperatedly.

“Really, Tsukki? Because, I mean, you’re not limping like you did for the first two weeks, and I’m, like, at least 99% sure that the doctor said you were okay to play two weeks ago.”

“99% is lofty.”

“Why aren’t you practicing with us anymore?”

Tsukishima’s step stutters unintentionally. He hadn’t expected such a direct approach from Yamaguchi. Was he that transparent? Staring down into his friend’s earnest face, realization dawns that perhaps Yamaguchi was more perceptive than he’d estimated, to not only root out the lie but the reason for the lie as well. 

At this rate Yamaguchi would know if he was beating around the bush, so Tsukishima eventually sighs, face twisting in resignation as he breaks eye contact.

“...What’s the point?”

“Th-” Tsukishima’s not sure why Yamaguchi is so startled. It’s not as if it was a secret that he wasn’t as into volleyball as the rest of the team ( _of course he wasn’t_ , he mutters inwardly, as he always does when the subjects of _volleyball_ and _effort_ come up). “The point? I don’t… I mean, we’re training to get better for the spring, right?”

“And?”

“And… you haven’t been?” 

Tsukishima likes Yamaguchi, despite the gossip of people who theorize about why the other boy sticks around him when he’s so abrasive. After years of friendship, Yamaguchi is perhaps the only one he can tolerate on a daily basis, and the only one who understands that the snips directed at him are meant with no real animosity. He doesn’t _force_ the other to stick around him, after all, and doesn’t send him away, either. Really, he likes Yamaguchi and he doesn’t want to harm the comfortable system they have. 

So with the sadly-familiar anxiousness seeping into his friend’s expression as he plows on, he knows he’s digging _that_ particular grave. 

“It’s not as if we’re going to get good enough to advance any further than we did in the tournament. No one can keep up with the idiot’s speed and the third years are going to leave after the spring.”

Yamaguchi looks rather strained. “But-”

“What’s the point in putting in effort if you’ll never improve enough? It’s better to quit now.”

As soon as Tsukishima says it, he knows he’s not only _dug_ the grave, but tripped and fallen directly into it. Yamaguchi’s face goes through an impressive array of emotions, looking startled (as if he hadn’t expected Tsukki to stoop _that_ low) and then close to tears (a moment that makes Tsukki want to take back what he’d said that _instant_ , except it was too late), and then settling, finally, on something close to anger. His mouth opens, face scrunched up in a way that makes Tsukishima’s chest ache uncomfortably, and then he turns away.

The two walk in silence for another block, Tsukishima almost able to feel the frustration seeping off of him until the his turn comes up. Usually his departure is accompanied by a “see you, Tsukki!” but today Tsukishima’s met with nothing but silence as the other shuffles off down his road.

For someone who reportedly didn’t care about how he came off to others, the rest of his walk home is filled with a whole lot of internal musing about the numerous things that had gone wrong in that conversation.

\-------

The next day in class, Tsukishima is most certainly not brooding when he’s interrupted by a shadow falling over his desk. He glances up to see Yamaguchi, holding his lunch and obviously conflicted over whether he should sit down or not-- this is odd, of course, because Yamaguchi _always_ just pulls up a chair and starts chattering about whatever’s happening in his life at the moment whether Tsukishima is really paying attention or not.

“Tsukki--” he says eventually, worrying his thumbs against his lunch bag. His face makes him look like he’s about two seconds from bolting, and Tsukishima abruptly wishes that he could reach forward and push Yamaguchi’s cheeks into a smile. That was embarrassing, though, and Yamaguchi seemed to be experiencing enough of _that_ particular emotion to fuel a small army. No use clogging the room.

“Tsukki, erm-- you’re coming to practice after school today, right?”

_Ah._

Tsukishima glances away, out the window, because he doesn’t want to look at Yamaguchi’s anxious face anymore. The feeling of guilt was unpleasant.

“My knee hurts,” he mutters, knowing nothing good will come of it.

“But--” he hears the hopeful tone in Yamaguchi’s voice, his friend, as always, electing to move past Tsukki’s irritating attitude. No matter how many times Tsukki had snapped at him in a fit of frustration, Yamaguchi was always the one to move on. If he didn’t, they’d probably be stuck in a minor cold war. Tsukishima is thankful, although he’s never voiced that fact.

“I’m not.”

The silence he’s met with is enough to make Tsukishima turn. Yamaguchi’s face is red, although no longer from embarrassment, he thinks, but from frustration. It’s odd to see. Tsukishima thinks he must have _really_ fucked up this time. 

“You’re…” Yamaguchi fumbles for words, shoulders tensing, “You’re-- You’re really acting-- _pathetic!_ ”

The sudden rise in volume is enough to get several heads to turn. Most in the class view Yamaguchi like one of those… remora fish stuck on Tsukishima’s side, a lackey laughing at the taller’s sardonic jokes. To see him tell Tsukki off is probably a spectacle. 

Tsukishima, of course, knows that Yamaguchi is not a remora. They’d watched a documentary on sharks a few weeks ago, and amidst Yamaguchi exclaiming how “that fish with the big mouth and the light is so creepy, Tsukki! Don’t you think?” Tsukishima had come to the conclusion that if anything, his friend was one of those dolphins that pushed drowning divers to the surface. 

He’s definitely stronger than Tsukishima, which is why he’s here in the first place. All Tsukki can do, in the face of such abruptly brutal honesty from the one person he’d actually receive it from, is stare like a deer in headlights. Yamaguchi seems to be satisfied with the interaction despite Tsukishima’s underwhelming reaction.

“Don’t- Don’t take this out on everyone else, Tsukki. It’s not fair and you know it.”

He does know it. Yamaguchi is right, as always, and Tsukishima takes his place as a Bad Friend™ once more. He watches as Yamaguchi turns and leaves, probably to go eat lunch with Hinata. As he turns back to his own lunch, he realizes he’s no longer hungry, and the word _pathetic_ echoes in his ears. 

With a sigh, he turns to glance out the window to his left, lunch abandoned. The scenery seems about as boring as it usually is when he’s not paying attention in class, but as he watches, a figure emerges from the edge of the school building. If Tsukishima squints, he can make out black hair and a school uniform, which would imply that it’s a student. In that case, he’s only mildly concerned by the fact that the mysterious person, pulling on his uniform jacket, promptly walks into the woods behind the school and does not emerge again for the rest of lunch. 

_Probably some weirdo friend of Hinata’s, or something_ , he thinks.

\-------

Tsukishima shows up to practice. 

Yamaguchi looks like he wants to say something when he enters the gym, but his mouth shuts a moment later and he turns away to help put up the net. Tsukishima resolutely ignores the sour taste in his mouth and walks over to tell Daichi that his knee is feeling better and that he’ll rejoin practice. Daichi claps him on the back and says he’s glad to hear it, and Tsukishima just feels worse. Guilt is a feeling equatable to being slowly run over by a steamroller, he thinks.

The team probably notices the imbalance in their dynamic immediately. Not a single ‘nice, Tsukki!’ rings out the entire practice, and Yamaguchi is stubbornly avoiding him, no matter how much Tsukishima furtively glances at him like a middle-schooler trying to catch the attention of his crush. He really was pathetic. 

No one seems to want to ask them about it, though, although Tsukishima catches Tanaka and Nishinoya whispering loudly as he gets back in line after one of their receiving drills. The only bit he can make out is “shove them in the closet together!”, and he really doesn’t want to know where that was going, so he promptly makes a jab at Nishinoya’s height. It was petty, sure, and not even his best work, but it cleared up the problem nicely. Of course, then he’s unable to Not Notice the absence of Yamaguchi’s usual snickers, despite the fact that his friend was standing right behind him in line.

At least Nishinoya and Tanaka are too busy yelling about him being “a disrespectful first-year!” and trying to take his glasses to notice.

\-------

Suga’s over by the windows during one of their breaks, so it’s him that first notices the trouble. No, really, it should be Trouble with a capital T. He makes a startled noise, turning to Daichi next to him and jabbing him in the shoulder several times.

“Daichi, was it supposed to rain today?”

Rubbing his shoulder and looking pained, the captain turns to also glance out the window, eyebrows rising at the sight.

“No, I didn’t think so… that looks pretty bad, doesn’t it? Maybe we should end practice so everyone can get home.”

Of course, Hinata somehow manages to hear this from the other side of the gym, where he’s chattering excitedly to Nishinoya about something or other-- Tsukishima can’t make it out, because about half of it consists of sound effects and jumping in the air. He’s becoming convinced Hinata is some species of alien that communicates solely through volleyball or something, especially given how he immediately cuts off his “conversation” with Nishinoya at Daichi’s words and basically throws himself across the gym.

“Daichi-san, I want to practice more!” he shouts, waving his hands in the air. 

Daichi looks rather exasperated, pointing at the window. “Don’t you bike home?”

“Yes, but-- UOOOAH! Look at that!”

Tsukishima snickers at his reaction. “It’s like he’s a metal detector, but only for volleyball,” he mutters, holding his hand up to cover his mouth as he instinctively turns next to him… only to find Yamaguchi already wandering over to look out the window with Hinata. He can physically feel his face falling into an expression comparable to one he would make eating a lemon. Ennoshita, apparently en route to the window as well, stops and looks like he wants to ask him what’s wrong, but before that can happen-- because he really _didn’t_ want to explain how ridiculous he was being-- Tsukishima scoffs nonchalantly and wanders off to join the rest of the team in looking outside. 

Thanks to his height, he’s easily able to see over everyone, enough to observe the darkening sky outside. As they all watch, the clouds move unnaturally fast to circle into what seems to be a cyclone in the sky, a large, dark funnel accompanied by the beginnings of rain and gusty wind.

“Wh… Where did it come from…?” Asahi asks, looking about two seconds from darting out the door. Suga grabs his arm.

“Maybe it’s the apocalypse,” Tsukishima says dryly. Asahi looks aghast, and Suga gives him a Look. Yamaguchi, who seems slightly intimidated by the growing storm, snorts out a laugh and then covers his mouth with his hand as if to conceal it. Of course Tsukishima notices, and tries very hard not to feel pleased with himself.

“Whooooa, look how hard it’s raining already! It’s been, like, two seconds!” Hinata’s eternally-excited voice rings out and is promptly accompanied by the ‘ooooh’s and ‘ahhh’s of Tanaka and Nishinoya as they, too, observe the rain.

Daichi seems to think it’s best to rein this situation in before the three decide to go run around outside (because they definitely _would_ ) and claps his hands together loudly. Everyone jumps. “Alright! Back to practice! If things get worse, we’ll stop early.” 

That, of course, sends up a new chorus of “NOOOOO!” from Hinata, but the players file away from the window, going back to their drills and only jolting slightly every time thunder rattles the windows. It wasn’t as loud as Daichi’s hand-clapping, anyway. 

Tsukishima mutters “volleyball detector” under his breath as he pulls up his kneepads, and most definitely does _not_ feel cheesily warm at the soft snickers coming from Yamaguchi behind him.

\-------

Throughout the rest of practice, the storm outside gradually grows, until they can barely hear themselves over the pounding of the rain and wind against the windows. It’s worse than any other rainstorm any of them have seen, too. Many a ball is received with a face due to someone glancing restlessly out the window. Their supply of ice packs seems to be running low, although when Shimizu suggests that she heads across to the main building to get more, she’s promptly given an adamant “no!” by about half the team. She acquiesces with the condition that they all go home as soon as possible before anyone is actually killed by a spike, but given the worsening conditions outside, that doesn’t seem likely. However, at Shimizu’s apparent concern for them, Tanaka and Nishinoya seem ready to run outside and fight the storm off barehandedly.

At one point Suga is startled as he retrieves a ball by _something_ smashing against the glass-- Daichi jolts upright at his yelp, leading to muffled snickers from much of the team (“They’re pretty married, right?”) in order to stifle their own nerves. Suga presses a hand against his chest, laughing after a moment.

“Really, Daichi, no need to look so worried… I think a branch blew off and hit the window, that’s all.”

This doesn’t seem to assuage the captain’s concerns at all as he moves over to glance outside again. When he turns back around, his face is rather grave, and the entire team stops what they’re doing to watch him.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to leave in this,” he says finally, clasping his hands behind his back. “It’s too unsafe.”

There’s quite a variety in the reactions that follow-- Hinata, holding a volleyball, leaps several feet in the air and yells “SLEEPOVER!” Asahi looks close to tears, once more eyeing the door as if he’s considering chancing the storm outside. Nishinoya latches onto his arm, chattering about how Asahi looks like he’s about to be sick and if he needs to go to the bathroom, there’s no windows in there, y’know! 

Tsukishima groans, not at all excited for the prospect of being stuck in a gym with several high-strung idiots for longer than he needs to be. He’s weighing the possibilities in his head-- sure, there were tree branches getting blown around outside, but in here there was the possibility of quite literally losing his singular mind if he had to play volleyball for much longer. A branch to the head, or extended time stuck with everyone here… it was a tough call. 

As he considers which is the lesser of two evils, his attention is drawn (predictably) to Yamaguchi, who is standing next to him and looks like he wants to sink directly into the floor. To be fair, he looks like that to some degree about 50% of the time, but it’s impossible for Tsukishima not to notice the sickly pallor his skin’s taken on and the tight clench of his knuckles on his practice shorts. He wonders if he should say something, but then realizes that he’s probably the furthest thing from a comforting presence in the world.

Of course Yamaguchi notices him watching, and before Tsukishima can quickly turn away and pretend he wasn’t (like a middle schooler), his friend laughs nervously and scoots almost imperceptibly closer. Tsukishima notices _that_ too, and isn’t quite sure what to do with his hands all of a sudden.

“G-Guess we’re stuck, huh, Tsukki?”

If his body language wasn’t enough, the slight tremor in Yamaguchi’s voice indicates how he feels about the situation. It’s apparently enough that Yamaguchi is willing to give up the cold shoulder he’d been presenting Tsukishima with for much of practice. 

In an attempt to make things seem more normal Tsukishima scoffs, pushing up his glasses and making his glance across the gym at the window as furtive as possible. It’s not like there’s much to see, what with the incredibly ominous impending apocalypse, but still. “I hope they don’t expect us to practice the entire time,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Not everyone here gains energy from being an idiot.”

At Tsukishima’s very obvious glance at Hinata, who’s currently bouncing a volleyball dangerously close to his face and chattering to Tanaka and Nishinoya about their “exciting sleepover”, Yamaguchi giggles.

“I’m sure they’ll give us a break! But… hopefully it’ll clear up soon…” Yamaguchi starts strong and then evidently starts considering the possibility that the freak storm won’t clear up. His words trail off, and Tsukishima tries to cover. Usually it’s Yamaguchi who fills the silence, but he can try.

“Storms like this usually go away as soon as they arrive, because of the fast wind. I’d say our greatest danger is being stuck in close confines with--”

Before Tsukishima can continue, several things happen in quick succession.

A blue light flickers outside. Hinata hollers something about lightning, dashing over to the window to look outside. It’s enough to draw the attention of the entire team, who are rightfully high-strung, and freeze them in place as if watching a movie scene unfold.

Next there’s a sudden _pop!_ and the lights flicker out. Someone (probably Asahi) shrieks in fear, and there’s an abrupt rise in volume as the players all immediately ask what’s happened. The tendency of high-school students to suddenly start yelling when the power shuts out is an unexplainable phenomena that extends to volleyball teams as well, it seems. After several seconds of chaos, Daichi’s voice can be heard, booming over the commotion. 

“Everyone calm down!” He shouts, and indeed the team quiets slightly, cowed despite the fact that no one can actually make out the terrifying look on Daichi’s face. “I’m sure there’s a fuse box around here somewhere, so--”

Finally, there’s the sound of shattering glass. 

Debris has been hitting the windows for much of practice, of course, and they’d been built for that, but whoever’d constructed the gym had likely not accounted for the possibility of a folding signboard being thrown against them at high velocity. Despite the now-dim lighting, everyone is able to see its path through the air… and then through the gym window as well, accompanied by a gale-force wind and what seems to be an entire ocean’s worth of water. Everyone sees, that is, except Hinata, who’d placed himself by the window in an attempt to survey the conditions outside. Whatever words he’d turned around to holler are abruptly cut off with a cry as the glass bursts in behind him.

Hinata’s saving grace, so it happens, is his height. (Tsukishima would have laughed, if he wasn’t frozen in shock much like the rest of the team.) As any sane person would, he ducks at the commotion behind him, getting low enough that the rampaging sign only cuffs him on the top of the head before smashing into the floor of the gym. 

_That probably could have killed him_ , Tsukishima thinks distantly.

Like someone abruptly hits play on the freaky thriller movie that this evening was becoming, the team springs into action a second later. 

Hinata falls to the floor completely, hands clasped over his head. Daichi and Suga call his name in unison, dashing over to the side of the downed first year. An incomprehensible, and yet distinctly concerned holler comes from Tanaka’s general vicinity as well before he barrels over to join the group on the floor. Amidst the ruckus Shimizu turns and hurries off, returning only a moment later like a shining hero bearing a first aide kit.

Asahi sits down heavily on the floor, Nishinoya looking conflicted on whether to stay with him or run over to crowd around Hinata as well. He seems to be full of nervous energy, bouncing back and forth as if running on pure adrenaline. Given the turn things had taken, it wouldn’t have been surprising, really.

“We’re going to see if we can get the power on,” Ennoshita says, his position as a beacon of reason only slightly undermined by the shaky tone of his voice. The sound of running footsteps can be heard a moment later as he, Kinoshita and Narita hurry off to check the rest of the building for a fuse box.

All the commotion is giving Tsukishima a headache. 

He turns on his heel, fully intending to isolate himself somewhere in a corner with his headphones on until _everything_ , flying signs, head injuries and apocalyptic storm, clear themselves up. Intending, that is, until he hears a strained inhale next to him and abruptly remembers that Yamaguchi had not been doing well prior to the power outage. Surely he would be even worse now, given his anxiety-- and sure enough, as Tsukishima glances over at his friend, he finds Yamaguchi hunched over slightly, trying to catch his breath. Although it’s too dark to really tell, he’d bet that the other is close to tears as well.

But-- he doesn’t know what to do. Not really, because although he was frequently lauded as analytical and intelligent, no one could plan for a freak storm trapping them in some sort of eternal volleyball hell.

In the end, he turns back around, allowing his hand to brush against Yamaguchi’s in what he hopes is a comforting manner. Thankfully (he didn’t know what the next level up in warmth would be) his friend jolts at the touch. Like he’s observing extraterrestrial life on Earth, Yamaguchi first stares at Tsukishima’s hand, still held loosely somewhere near his own and then up at Tsukishima’s face, which is turned in apparent (embarrassed) dismissal. He scrubs at his cheeks with the back of one (only slightly trembling) hand, a weak grin finding its way onto his face. 

“Sorry, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima wonders what he’s apologizing for, exactly, but decides not to press the issue. Instead, he stifles an irritatingly mushy warm feeling at the barely-visible sight of Yamaguchi’s faint smile and tilts his head towards the broken window.

“Let’s see if we can figure out a way to block that off before we all drown on dry land.”

Yamaguchi nods vigorously, obviously happy for a distraction, and the two pick their way across the gym, around Hinata’s small crowd and the broken sign. _He seems fine_ , Tsukishima thinks dryly as Hinata “ooh”s and “ahh”s at Shimizu’s first-aid ability and crows about how he’s alright, he could _totally_ hit at least 100 spikes right this instant! Suga tries in vain to tell him to calm down so he doesn’t actually give himself a serious injury, but to no avail.

“Aha… he doesn’t seem to be badly hurt, huh?” Yamaguchi laughs, relief obvious in his tone.

“I think it’d take more than a sign to crack his thick skull, to be honest.”

“Tsukki!” Although he tries to sound stern, a giggle bubbles out of Yamaguchi unbidden. 

Smirking, Tsukishima examines the remains of the window, trying in vain to avoid getting instantly soaked by the torrential downpour still-- well, pouring in. It doesn’t seem too hard to fix with a tarp or something, although the wind will be a problem unless the storm dies down. Still, they can probably at least stack some mats in front of it to block the brunt of the rain until they’re able to leave. 

“It’s not unfixable,” he says finally, straightening up to peer outside. Very faintly he can make out the glow of what’s probably phone lights and electric lamps from the main building, as well as the silhouettes of trees bending in the wind. The sight is somehow comforting. 

A sudden burst of lightning eerily illuminates the area, and in that moment, Tsukishima swears he sees a tiny figure on top of the other building. He squints at it, trying to remember if there was any sort of weather vane on this side of the roof. He swears there wasn’t. “It’ll be a hassle, though. Repairing it.”

Yamaguchi looks confused by Tsukishima’s odd demeanor, but takes it in stride as usual. “Oh. Well, that’s not too bad! Maybe we can go look in the storage room for something to block it with…? ...Jeez, it’s really not letting up, huh?”

He steps forward to join Tsukishima in squinting into the darkness, and lightning flashes again. Of course, this time the silhouette of a person on top of the building is clear to see. It struggles, hands up at its throat.

And then, because nothing can _ever_ be easy, it topples over the edge of the roof.

**Author's Note:**

> my experience with fanfic writing is so low i don't even know what to put in the author's notes, haha...
> 
> i'm sorry this is so long for Very Little actually happening! i lack the ability to be concise, apparently... i swear there'll be more interesting stuff next chapter, though! hopefully... i'll be able to finish it in 3 chapters... without reaching, like, 100k words ('-';)
> 
> if you'd like to keep up with me and my Shenanigans, you can follow me on twitter here: https://twitter.com/reytxt or tumblr here: http://skyioft.tumblr.com/
> 
> if you enjoyed it, please feel free to leave kudos or comment :'U thanks so much for reading!


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